


Careless

by takemetoplanetmars



Category: dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Football, Highschool AU, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jock with lonely boy, LGBTQIA+, M/M, Panic Attacks, Party, Rehab, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, dreamnotfound, dreamwastaken - Freeform, georgenotfound - Freeform, switching POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:13:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29051958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takemetoplanetmars/pseuds/takemetoplanetmars
Summary: George has always been someone who kept to himself, he never really had friends in high school. He struggled with Depression and Anxiety for most of it. Clay however was the opposite, he was captain of the football team and has always had friends. When the two find themselves alone in a park, not knowing who the other is, things change. For better or for worse?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Luke | Punz (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 128





	1. The park

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiii! so this is my first time writing a fanfic. Originally it was just a story about two random boys but I changed it. I don't really know what I'm doing but I just thought I would share. writing is like a way of coping with crap in my life so it might not be the best lmao.  
> I don't actually ship them irl but they just have a cute friendship so I wanted to make a story.  
> If any of them say they are uncomfortable with this I will take it down
> 
> Also just a warning this story can get dark at some times but I will try to put a trigger warning before anything that might be triggering. For now here are a few triggers that might come up in the story. 
> 
> TW:  
> Depression  
> Suicide attempt  
> Self harm  
> Panic Attacks  
> Drinking alcohol (at a party)  
> Anxiety  
> Swearing  
> Minor homophobia  
> Rehab
> 
> Feel free to comment any I missed when reading this story. Enjoy :PPP

The leaves rustle under the young boys' boot, as he walks along the street. Never before has a night been more restless. With the sky getting darker and the streets getting quieter, George finds himself in thought. He thinks of everything that one could. He finds himself at a vacant park and decides to sit upon the swings. 

As he swings he hears something behind him. Another boy looking to be about his age, walking by himself in the field. He watches as he walks, gracefully as ever. He thinks to himself. 

The world around them never settles down, yet at this moment it is calm. He watches, watches as he bends down to pick up a flower, watches as he looks up into the starry night without a care in the world. To be him. To be careless.

He wishes, begs, for him to be him. Careless. Not a worry. He envied him. He hated him yet he didn’t even know him. Before he could react the boy was walking over. At some point, they had made eye contact. George didn’t seem to notice as he was too lost in thought. 

The boy sat down on the swing next to him. The silence of the night fell upon them. Neither started the conversation for a while. Then the boy spoke:

“Do you ever feel like you could do anything?”

An odd question. George thought to himself. Without saying anything he spoke again:

“Like you could walk on water?”

“Not really,” he responded. He recognized the voice, not thinking twice about it since he couldn't put a name to it. He didn’t bother going into depth further. He would most likely never see this boy again.

That was it. The conversation ended. The boy didn’t ask questions, he didn’t talk more.

He looked at his phone; 1:52 am. He had been outside for over 2 hours. He knew his parents would be worried but he couldn't find himself to care. He found his presence next to the boy comforting, even with the 5 feet of distance between them. 

At last, everything good must come to an end. Right now this was the only good thing in his life and he had barely even talked or looked at the boy for that matter. He got up and walked, not taking a second glance behind him, feeling he would never go home if he did.

He walked home dreading every step of the way. He knew what was lying at home for him. Another day with parents yelling at him. Another day he felt alone. Another day he felt closer to his end. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Clay watched as the smaller boy walked away. They hadn’t spoken much and it was too dark to see what he looked like but from the back he had black maybe brown hair. His voice as he spoke was soft but sounded tired. Exhausted even. Maybe that’s why he answered with the weight on his shoulders. Admitting to never feeling free. 

In a way, he felt bad. He didn’t need to know the boy to know he had something going on. Part of him wanted to take his problems away and make him experience life without the weight of the world on his shoulders. Part of him was confused as to why he felt this way. He let his thoughts drift as stared into the night sky slowly swinging back and forth. He heard the call of an owl in the distance. He focused his eyes on the big dipper watching as the star shone brightly in the dark night sky.

He decided he should head home since he had school in the morning and it was getting late. He had snuck out so his parents hadn’t known he left the house. Sometimes he felt bad for always lying to his parents. Although he had a good relationship with them he often wondered why that was. He thought some more as he walked along the sidewalk seeing the sight of his house within a few minutes.

\---------------------------------------------------------

When George walked through the front door he was greeted with a sight he’s seen before. His mom sitting on the couch staring out the window with a tissue in her hand crying. His dad standing above her, comforting her. They both turned their heads towards him. 

His mom stood up, eyes in disbelief as if she thought she would never see her son again. 

“Where have you been? Your father and I have been worried sick about you. You cannot leave this house at night like this, especially not after we weren’t done talking,” His mom said in a tone he was used to hearing.

He let his mom do most of the talking. He was used to this conversation because it happened so often. Replying with an “ok” or nod to satisfy his mom. Normally when they fought it was during the day making it easier to storm out of the house, but this time it was at night. 

George didn’t realize how much the night time would be a more refreshing break from his broken household. 

During most of these conversations, he would often look over to his dad who refused to make eye contact with him. Simply sitting there watching his wife yell at their only child. He thought about what could go through his dad's mind. Letting his wife control his every move. He always promised himself to never give his child this life. If he ever made it that far. 

After his mom had seemed to stop lecturing him about how much of a disappointment he is. He walked up to his room. Not bothering to brush his teeth or change his clothes. He fell into his bed letting his mind drift back to the boy. To the peace, he felt while taking in the night sky and listening to the squeak of the swing as they both swayed back and forth. 

Soon he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter! As far as updates go I have currently written 10 chapters so updates will be daily to every other day but that's not for sure so idk but I will try to be consistent but I do have school and homework so that can get to be a lot. 
> 
> Word count: 1004


	2. Acknowledgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George recognizes a voice from behind him at school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy yall! thanks to everyone who read and liked chapter one :P  
> Here is chapter 2 hopefully you guys like this one too. It is a little slower but more to come !  
> Happy reading!

George was woken up by his alarm. 7 am. Slowly but surely he got himself up. He grabbed his usual outfit, sweats, and a sweatshirt too tired to put in the effort. His mother greeted him with a simple “good morning” acting as if she hadn't just yelled at him 5 hours earlier. 

His mom looked tired. Oftentimes he felt bad for always leaving his mother to worry about him. Seeing as though he was the cause of all her problems. 

Most days George skipped breakfast either not having enough time for it or not being hungry enough. After 30 min of being awake, he grabbed his keys, said bye to his parents, and hopped into his car.

The drive to his school was no more than 20 minutes. He listened to his regular playlist and passed the regular streets until his school came into view. 

He was a junior at Westfield High. He didn’t have many friends if any even. He often was alone in school but he liked it better that way. Fewer distractions. He knew keeping his grades up was very important to his mom and he did everything he could to please his mom. Even in hating her, he still wanted her approval.

He pulled into his usual parking space and got out of the car. He threw his backpack over his shoulder, shut and locked his car.

School started at 8:00 am so he was only about 10 minutes early. He walked in to see the same faces as he usually did. He headed to class early and took his seat. He sat in the back of the class to go unnoticed, doing everything he could to not get called on. He pulled out a book he had been reading recently. Reading was always a safe place for George he was able to escape the real world.

When he heard the bell ring he put his book away and looked around. Everyone had filled their seats. Conversations came to an end as the morning announcements started playing from the crisp loudspeaker.

The class was boring, as usual, learning about the same topics. School often went by in a blur, slowly and painfully. He didn’t hate school but he would rather be anywhere else. Too filled with every highschool stereotype you can think of. 

George texted his mom telling her he was going to go to the park to do homework after school. He wanted to be alone right now. Time ticked slowly as he went to his last period

As his last class came to an end he began walking when he heard a familiar voice. The same voice he had heard last night. He turned around to see who the mystery boy was. 

His face fell, time stopped moving, everyone around him disappeared. The only thing he was focused on was a boy. He heard him say something again, voice matching perfectly to one of the last nights.

Clay, a junior at Westfield High Captain of the Football team, the most popular guy in school. The most annoying guy in school. He thought back to last night being too deep into his thoughts to look at him closely or even hear him closely. 

There was no way. No way the boy he felt comforted by after years was the same arrogant cocky bitch boy whose daddy got him everything he ever wanted.

Not realizing he was still staring at him. They made eye contact. Although it was only for a split second because George quickly turned back around and got into his car as fast as he could. Fidgeting to get his keys out and start his car. Pulling himself together, he drove off to the same vacant park as last night. Instead of pulling out his homework after parking and heading to the bench, he sat on that bench, gaze drifting over to where he had sat just last night. 

This couldn't be real.

\---------------------------------------------------------

After Clay heard the bell ring for the last period he almost immediately walked out of class. The class was boring but the school was great for Clay. He was popular, could get almost every girl he would ever want and he was the captain of the football team. A clique as some would say.

He saw his best friends Nick and Luke from across the hall and walked over to them.

“So you guys are gonna bring anyone to the game next week?” Luke said.

“I was thinking of maybe bringing this girl I've been talking to from another school, named Olivia,” Nick responded

“What about you Clay? I know you got girls lining up to get in your pants.” Luke said laughing along with Nick, Clay however wasn’t listening. He had caught the eyes of a boy staring at him. Part of him recognized him but he assumed it was from around campus.

The two had only made eye contact for a second before the boy turned around and walked away. That's when it hit him. The boy from last night. He remembered him now. Before he could think any longer he felt a hand on his shoulder slightly shake him and someone calling his name.

“Clay?” Nick said. Both him and Luke were staring at him curiously.

“Yeah, yeah for sure,” Clay replied before getting away from Nick’s grip and jogging forward.

The boy had already walked outside before he could get a chance to even move. When he pushed the door, he looked around and saw nothing. He knew he would have to see him again tomorrow maybe. 

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Luke said from behind Clay, jogging with Nick up to him.

“What do you mean? Nothing is wrong with me.” Clay exclaimed

“You're acting weird and what were you chasing after?” Nick began after Clay had finished.

“Oh, it was nothing. Forget about it.” Clay said, still in his mind about what had just happened.

“Alright man, whatever you say,” Nick said while looking at Luke, still confused about what had just gone down.

As the three of them talked Clay was only halfway into the conversation still thinking about what exactly had just happened and how he had managed to find the boy from the park again.

\---------------------------------------------------------

George sat on the cold bench. It was a cold day around 60 degrees Fahrenheit. Unlike others, George loved the cold he often found himself sitting in his backyard on the coldest night enjoying the breeze that picked up.

Today was no different. He decided to walk to the fields to where he first spotted Clay. After settling down in the cool grass he layed back. He never really got to do this during the day unless it was after fighting with his parents, he never got to enjoy himself. He thought the same thoughts as he did every day, why he still was on this earth, why his parents hated him so much, why no one ever found him good enough? 

When George was a freshman he came out to his parents as bi, although they had accepted him, after that his relationship was never the same with them. He often thought that that was the reason why.

So far his high school years had been rough. When he started high school he was bullied. He tried not to let it get to him but oftentimes it did. Months later he was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. That's when around sophomore year he started hurting himself. It usually helped with his pain. It was the only way around feeling completely and utterly useless. This, no one knew about. The bullying stopped at the beginning of Junior year but the cutting didn’t.

He has medication for each diagnostic but it doesn’t help. Cutting eases it but not enough. Not enough to stop the thoughts. 

Sometimes he would have to force himself to not think these things to save himself. Many times has George thought about ending it all. All but one thing has kept it from ending it all.

Dying would mean everything his mom says about him is right. He is a disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was chapter 2!! I hope you liked it, I should be writing more this weekend since I have no homework (ok I do but im not doing it) so chapter 3 should be out tmr around the same time.  
> Thanks for reading :PPPPPP
> 
> Word count: 1362


	3. Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a minor event, George get invited somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I just want to say sorry for not posting yesterday. I ended having a lot to do and I was to tired to write and edit but here is chapter 3! 
> 
> Happy Reading :P

A couple of days passed and the two hadn’t spoken much. Clay would often glance over at George but George refused to return it. George didn’t want to believe the one person he felt safe with was the dickhead of the school. 

They saw each other on the swings two nights ago but neither started a conversation. Both sat in silence listening to the squeak of the swings and feeling the cool breeze brush across their faces. What was there to talk about? They knew each other's names, where they went to school, how old they were.

Part of George wanted to start the conversation, feeling like he wanted to talk to this boy to get to know him outside of his persona at school, but at lass he never did. 

In 2 days time, the football game was happening. George was never one to attend school events, seeing as he has no friends, it wouldn’t be the same. He did, however, think about going to this one. He thought he could watch Clay play to see how good he is. 

Everybody wanted to be Clay. He had scholarships lining up just waiting for him to finish high school and he wasn’t even a senior yet. He could have anyone he wanted, girl or boy, though he only liked girls, the options were still there. Everyone was jealous of the perfect life Clay lives. Sometimes even George.

But he wasn’t jealous of the popularity or the skill, he was jealous of the relationship with his parents. Clay parents always came to his football games and were his biggest supporter. Cheering him on even when it was a bad play, making sure he was in good shape to go out onto the field. You didn’t have to attend football games to know who Clay parents were.

George was jealous of every good relationship one had with their parents. It wasn’t fair, he thought, why do I have to suffer and others don’t? 

He let his mind drift into a world of thought as he drove to yet another day of school. Not paying attention, George felt his car jerk. He looked up to see he had hit the back bumper of the car in front of him. 

A shock wave was sent through his body. Full force panic rose in him. Before he could react he watched as the guy in front of him got out of the car and walked over to him. George got up out of his car as well not looking at the man, too embarrassed. 

Granted they were only going about 15 miles per hour so neither car got damaged from it, he was still shocked. He had been so wrapped up in his life he barely noticed the world around him.

“Hey man, what the hell?” the man spoke in a harsh tone. George knew the voice, he dreaded turning around, hoping, praying to the gods that the man he had not just hit was the same dickhead from school. 

George turned around to make eye contact with Clay. Both froze. Clay's face fell softer, looking at each other for a moment before George broke it and spoke.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for whatever you need, damages, costs, all of it.” George spoke panicked like he was about to break, looking anywhere except Clay's eyes.

“It’s not a big deal,” this time when Clay spoke it was softer and more understanding. “The car was barely damaged, no need for you to pay.”

Why was he being nice, George had seen the way Clay acted at school, this wasn’t it. It wasn’t ever nice, just cocky like he was too good for everyone and everything. 

“No I will, I hit you I’ll pay,” George said, though he hoped he wouldn't because one, he didn’t have the money, and two, he didn’t want to have to explain this to his parents. Just another reason for them to hate him.

“It’s fine,” Clay stated “but you can repay me by coming to the football game.” Clay now leaned against the car.

_ What? _ Had Clay seriously just asked him to the football game? His mind was going everywhere. Part of him wanted to say yes but part of him hated Clay. He was rude, obnoxious, never letting anyone do anything better than him. But he had no choice. He had just hit Clay with his car, going would mean repaying him.

George sat staring at him for a moment before “Yeah sure, I’ll just have to ask my parents.”

Clay smirked. George hated it. Even though they shared multiple nights of silent comfort, he didn’t want to give Clay what he wanted. Clay got everything and here he was again, getting more.

“Alright, cool,” Clay said smugly. “We have to go before we're late but I’ll see you around, but here's my number.” He handed George a slip of paper with his name and number, then walked back to his car. George just stood there for a moment, in disbelief of what just unfolded in front of his eyes. 

Slowly, George walked back to his car. He sat in his car for a moment. Then turned the keys to the car and started to head to school. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

It was Friday, the night of the football game. George wanted to get himself excited, excited someone had asked him to go, excited to be in a group setting. But Clay. He has always hated Clay. Ever since they were kids. He was too outgoing and happy, it often made George sick. Maybe George was just jealous of him. Who knows.

As the school was coming to a close George walked to his car. He hadn’t yet actually used the number Clay gave him. Too scared of what would happen if he did. He heard someone call his name from behind. It was soft yet urgent like he was in a rush.

“George, wait up.”

George turned to see Clay jogging closer to him.

“You’re still coming to the football game tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I should be. Why?” George sounded passive-aggressive, he didn’t mean to but it came out that way.

“You haven’t texted me so I just assumed you were ignoring me.”

“Oh sorry, I just haven’t been on my phone.” That was a lie.

“Alright, so I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yep see you then,” George said, forcing a smile.

“Cool,” Clay smirked again and began walking away.

George watched him for a bit before turning towards his car and driving home.

When George got home he half expected to be greeted by his parents, as sometimes they had work but other times they didn’t. To his surprise neither were home. He still hadn’t asked his mom about going to the football game but he assumed it was fine since he never went out. 

He walked up to his room. It felt weird to have to get ready to go somewhere. No one ever invited him to things and when people did he often declined it. They got out of school around 2:30 and the football game was at 7. He decided he would take a nap to ease the stressful day. 

Before he fell asleep he thought about texting Clay but decided against it when he realized he had left his phone across the room. He slowly started to drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Updates to come!
> 
> Word count: 1239


	4. Game day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George freaks out about the game, will he still go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a trigger warning, there is a panic attack but I will put "TW" before and when it ends so you know!   
> Happy Reading :P

When George woke back up it was 5:30. He hadn’t gotten home til around 3:30 so it was a simple 2-hour nap. He was planning on leaving in an hour so he wouldn’t be late. He woke himself up and went downstairs to get something to eat. Besides lunch at around 11:30 he hasn’t eaten all day. He grabbed a granola bar and a glass of apple juice.

After a while of scrolling through Twitter. He headed back upstairs to get dressed. He threw on some light wash jeans with a navy blue crewneck sweatshirt. He often didn’t care what he looked like at school but this time he was more put together.

As time started getting closer to 6:30 he felt more and more nervous. He didn’t know what to do. He has never been to a game especially with someone, but not really because Clay was playing. His anxiety started to pick up.

Most of the time he only ever got anxious around people; he was very much a private and alone person. The clock hit 6:30 and he started feeling even more anxious.

**TW: Panic Attack**

He walked out to his car. He felt a panic attack start to come on. 

He fell to the floor of his driveway breathing in and out heavily. He was used to having to deal with these on his own but this time it felt like it was taking over.

He tried to find 5 things he could see, 4 things he could touch, 3 things he could hear, 2 things he could smell, and 1 thing he could taste, but his mind went blank, his vision started to blur and all he could hear was ringing in his ears. 

He sat curled into a ball rocking back and forth just trying to do anything to help. Hands clutching together tightly. He felt himself start to shiver but not from the cold. He was getting more and more anxious. 

The first time George ever had a panic attack was freshmen year. It was moments before coming out to his parents. His mind had a tendency to go to the worst places possible in situations like this. Panic attacks happened more often than George would want to admit, especially when it came to social interaction. 

After about 3 or so minutes of him rocking on the ground, he felt himself start to relax. Breathing slowed, becoming aware of the world around him. He used the wall closest to him to help himself up. The panic attack had passed. 

**TW Over**

He got into his car. He took the usual path to school except he took a right when he was supposed to go left. He was going the opposite way of the school. He kept driving slowly approaching the park. It wasn’t yet pitch black but it was getting darker. He felt bad for leaving Clay hanging but if he freaked out even thinking of going, just imagine if he went. 

When he got to the park he walked to the swings. He swayed back and forth thinking about Clay. He left himself to drift into a world where he’s loved, by his parents, my friends, by anyone. Maybe he was deprived of love that’s why Clay felt so comforting to be next to. How can you hate someone but be so comforted by them at the same time?

He didn’t know, but he did know that he was going to have to explain this to Clay one way or another. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

As Clay was warming up for the game he looked around trying to find George. He couldn’t text him since he didn’t have his number and knew no one else would, seeing as he doesn’t have any friends. It was weird to Clay how much he wanted George to come. Recently all he could think about was George. Something about him.

Clay was so distracted he was getting demolished in the warm-up. People who didn’t normally tackle him tackled him, passes he never missed, he missed. His coach had already lectured him about how he needed to get his head in the game. He ignored it.

He looked around again for George. Nothing. It started edging closer and closer to the start of the game. Realization set in that George wasn’t coming. He had played so badly during warmup the coach had no choice but to bench him until he focused.

10 minutes into the game, his coach put him in. The crowd went wild. Clay was the best on the team, but at this moment he didn’t know.

Clay knew there was no point in focusing on someone that isn’t even here so he decided to focus on what was at hand. The game.

The final score was 37-35. They had just barely lost as the kicker missed the last field goal, costing them the extra 3 points. Clay felt defeated, partly because George didn’t show, partly because they lost to an easy team because of him. 

He didn’t feel like going home. He knew his parents would be supportive but he knew they were disappointed, he read his parents like books. Memorizing when they lied to make him feel better. Maybe this is why the relationship between him and his parents often felt fake.

He got into his car and drove to the place he currently loved the most.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, George had drifted from the swings to the field. He lay in the fields just starring as the sky went from blue to black. The stars slowly came back into the sky and the sun had faded. Sunset was at around 6:15 so he just barely missed it. 

He didn’t realize he had been lying there for almost 4 hours. It felt nice. To be alone in the world feeling…. free. It surprised George how easily and how much he was in his thoughts, never noticing the world around him.

He was pulled out of it when he heard someone speak.

“Hey,” George sat up, standing about 10 feet from him was Clay. 

“Hi,” George didn’t know what else to say. 

They stared at each other. George studied him. His hair was a dirty blonde mess, probably from his helmet, he had eye black smeared on his face from sweating, and his letterman jacket covering over his plain white shirt. His hands were in his pocket. He looked cold. When they made eye contact George could just barely see his green eyes in the dark of the night.

“Why didn’t you come to the game?” He sounded distraught, confused even.

“Um…” what was he supposed to say ‘ _ oh yeah I just had a little bit of a breakdown and couldn’t bring myself to face you.’  _

“My mom ended up saying no.” He lied, Clay knew he lied.

“Oh. Since you didn’t show you still owe me.”

“Yeah, I guess that means I do.” George broke the eye contact between them, a slight smile seeking to the surface of his face. 

Clay stood looking at George for a moment. He seemed tired. He always seemed tired. His brown hair was neatly placed on top of his head. His cheeks flushed with pink probably from the cold.

Clay watched and he lay back down into the grass. Clay followed and lay next to him.

Once again they sat in silence. This time Clay became bolder speaking up.

“Why are you always alone?” The question, although in a soft tone, was harsh, straight to the point, not usually something you ask someone you don’t know.

“It's easier. You don’t let people down.” It sounded sad yet true.

Clay has always lived a life with friends, never alone. He preferred it that way. He didn’t like being alone, it was sad, having no one to share your happiness with.

“What about when you’re happy? You don’t have anyone to share it with.”

“You can’t share what you don’t have,” George said with a laugh. Nothing was funny though.

As the night went on they had short and deep conversations. George learned more about Clay, the person, and not Clay the dickhead. 

George knew this wouldn’t become anything more. He didn’t want it to or did he…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm sorry my uploading schedule has been so hectic so I am not going to make anymore promises for it because school has been a lot therefore I am not getting to write as often and have chapters ready to post. So updates will be less frequent :/  
> Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed!!
> 
> Word count: 1374


	5. Party Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George gets invited to a party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically this chapter is full of drinking so if that is triggering in anyway I would suggest just not reading this chapter and if you want I can give you a summary of it, so comment for that.  
> Also TW for mention of razors and Self harm scars, very minor but still there.

The next week went by, uneventful, with casual conversations between him and Clay. It was now next Friday night. The football game had been canceled due to the stormy weather. School went differently than George thought it would today.

“Hey, George.” Clay was talking to George. In school. In public.

“Um, hi.” Part of George was a bit startled, confused even that Clay was talking to him. 

“Well you still owe me from missing the football, so I was thinking you could come to a party with me tonight?” Clay said it with hesitation in his voice, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer-back.

“Yeah, that sounds fun.” If George was being honest it didn't, but he already bailed on him once.

“Really?” A happy tone in Clay’s voice. George nodded.

“Great. I will pick you up around 8. No ditching.”

“Ok sounds good.”

“Well, I am off to class, as are you, but I will see you tonight.” Clay shot finger guns at George with a grin on his face as he walked to his class.

George had never been invited to a party before, maybe it would be fun.

\---------------------------------------------------------

George was getting ready for the party. Clay should be there in about 10 minutes. He went through his closet for something to wear. He decided on a pair of black pair of loose jeans for his bottoms and a dark green sweatshirt, with no design. For his shoes, he wore his everyday beat up white converse. As he was finishing up getting ready, he heard a knock on the door. Clay was here.

He walked downstairs and said bye to his parents. They had agreed to let him go because he never gets out. George opened the door and greeted Clay. He quickly walked outside so his parents couldn’t embarrass him.

They got into the car together after making a bit of small talk on the walk.

“You look nice,” Clay said to George, he was wearing something simple but the compliment made him more confident.

“So do you,” George said with a slight smile. Clay was wearing a plain white T-shirt with his letterman jacket on top. Dark blue jeans to go with. His shoes were Nike Air Force ones, an everyday shoe for him, an everyday outfit for him.

As they got into the car the air surrounding them was tense. Neither knew what to talk about. Small talk would result in an awkward silence after, making it more awkward. Nonetheless, small talk was better than no talk.

“Whose party is it?” George started.

“Nick’s. His parents are out of town on some business trip or something, he didn’t give any minor details he just said bring people.”

“Oh got it.” Before the silence could become awkward Clay began again:

“Why? You nervous?”

“No, I don’t get nervous.” Clay laughed at that. It was so painfully not true that you didn’t have to know him to know that.

“Ok sure,” Clay said, still laughing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” George looked over to Clay, they made eye contact but only for a split second so Clay could focus back on the road. They laughed about it for a bit longer, the awkward silence now gone.

“Do you think you’ll drink?” Clay asked him with a slight smirk on his face.

George had never tried alcohol before, never been interested, he was only 17 after all, but this was a party and you're supposed to let loose at parties so perhaps he would make an exception just this once.

“I guess we’ll have to see when we get there.” George was now the one smirking.

“A man of mystery, I like.” George whipped his head to see Clay, focused on the road but the smirk remained there. George felt his cheeks get a slight red. He looked away in hopes Clay wouldn’t notice.

The small talk continued throughout the ride, both trying and wanting to keep the conversation alive, as they neared Nick’s house. 

From an outside perspective, you would be able to tell there was a party going on. Cars everywhere, flashing lights surrounding the chaos. 

Like Clay, Nick was also rich. Like Beverly hills rich. His house was at least 3 times the size of Georges's, driveway big enough to fit every last person's car.

When Clay found a parking spot they both got out. When they walked up to the house, Clay walked straight in, looking around to try and find Nick. After a few seconds, Nick came up to them from behind, already almost drunk, and wrapped his arms around the two. 

“Hey, guys!”

“Hi Nick, enjoying yourself?” Clay said, already knowing the answer.

“Of course I am!” Nick declared “Have fun, enjoy yourself, and most importantly grab yourselves a drink!” Nick winked as he said that.

“Thanks, Nick.” Clay laughingly said. Nick was always a partier, nothing Clay hadn’t been used to.

When Nick walked away Clay turned to George.

“So where do you want to start first?” Clay had his hands in his pocket. He seemed nervous.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

George and Clay laughed. Both semi out of their comfort zone. Clay hadn’t been much of a partier or drinker so whenever he attended he was more of the person who kept Nick sane.

About 2 hours had gone by now and it was 10:30. Clay and George had started to become more comfortable.

Clay had about 2 drinks while George had had about 10. He was drunk. George was a lightweight, seeing as this was his first time drinking so naturally 10 drinks have caused him to be a bit more,  _ not _ George.

George continued to drink, getting himself wasted to where he could barely walk. Every time Clay had offered to help him, he refused and every time Clay tried to get him to stop drinking he would get mad. Clay didn’t know George well enough to parent him. Though he was still concerned for him.

He was happier, freer for one, and was more down to earth with things so when Nick had asked if they wanted to spin the bottle George happily complied. Granted most people playing were drunk so it didn’t matter it was still fun.

After a few rounds, it was George’s turn. When George spun the bottle it landed on a girl. He had seen her a few times around campus but other than that, he didn’t know who she was.

When the girl realized it landed on her she looked up at George. They both leaned in and locked lips. They sat kissing for about 10 seconds before each pulled away, both smiling. A slight blush dispersed on George‘s cheeks as he kept his eyes on the ground.

Clay stared in awe. He was jealous, hiding it behind a straight face. He didn’t want anyone knowing he cared.

Another few rounds went by before it was Clay's turn. So far the bottle hadn’t landed on him. Clay took the bottle into his right hand and spun it. After a few seconds of the bottle spinning, it slowly came to a stop.

When it stopped, Clay looked up to see who it was pointing to. I bet you could guess who it was. George. Both of their faces were flustered. Surely they weren’t going to kiss? Right?

That’s when both their hearts stopped as they heard someone random who was playing say:

“You can spin again to get a girl.” He was laughing, clearly drunk, “That’s gay.” That's when a few more people, also playing, joined in on his laughing.

Clay broke the eye contact between the two and said “Yeah,” Clay snickered regretfully along “totally gay,” and spun again. He couldn’t look at George. He knew what he said and he regretted it but people were staring and he had to say something.

When the bottle landed on a girl, they kissed. When they pulled away he heard George say that he was going to get another drink. 

Clay couldn’t leave, it would look suspicious on his part, but why did he care so much about how it looked.

The game went on for about 10 more minutes, Clay had kissed a few other girls trying his best to make it not seem like he was worried about George the whole time. 

When the game dispersed and people went their separate ways, Clay immediately began looking for George. Not only was he alone but he was lost in a place he had never been and drunk. Very drunk.

Clay didn’t know that George had never drunk before, George never mentioned it but by the way he was acting you could tell. 

Clay had looked almost everywhere, asking around but George was nowhere to be found. **(HAHA georgenotfound, sorry I had to)** Clay walked to the front of the house and into the front yard. 

There were plenty of people all around him, making out on top of cars, drinking contests in the grass, if George was out here he would be hard to find. 

Clay began looking. Nick’s house was a gated one so most of the party was contained inside of it, but when Clay looked beyond the gates and into the street he saw a boy, same height as George with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, dancing to the faint music in the slight drizzle of rain from the passing storm.

He walked up to the gate and opened it. The street was vacant, lit by street lights. The only movement insight was the boy. He was slowly making his way down the street towards the stop sign, clearly having no sense of direction.

“George?” No response.

“I know it’s you I’m not an idiot.”

This time George turned to face him, eyebrows slightly up with a disgusted look on his face.

“Shut up, I can’t hear the music over you.” He slurred his words. He turned back around, facing away from Clay, and continued to dance.

“George, you're drunk we need to go home.” Clay began to walk towards him. He wasn’t too far away from him seeing as how he can barely even walk.

“Leave me alone,” he turned to face him again and after a few seconds added “homophobe.”

Clay froze, “What?” He said voice perked up, looking at him confused.

“You heard me,” George stated as if it were obvious.

Clay didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? He wasn’t homophobic, it was just a heat of the moment. He got caught up and made a mistake. It wasn't true. George simply turned back around, continuing what he was doing before.

Maybe he was taking advantage of the situation because he knew that George wouldn’t remember anything, but he walked up to George, now only a few feet from him, and grabbed his arm to pull him towards the car. If he needed to he would drag George home. When George resisted, pulling his hand back, his forearm was exposed. Clay’s eye caught a glimpse of it. 

**TW: Small mention of self harming scars**

His arm was full of cuts and scars, some fresh, some old. Clay stared at it before George noticed and pulled away. This time he didn’t start dancing again, he just stood there, clutching his arm, staring down at the ground. There was no denying that Clay saw it.

**TW: Over**

Neither knew what to say or do next, standing there in silence, only hearing the slight breeze in the trees and rustle of the leaves.

George began to walk towards the car brushing past Clay.

“Geor-”

“Don’t.”

Clay watched as he walked past him, head down.

After some distance gained between the two Clay started walking towards the car as well.

The car ride back was silent, George going in and out of consciousness.

It was late, later than George had expected to stay out. He was hoping he could slip in without his parents noticing. 

As they pulled up to George's house Clay said “I told your parents we might be late home so they should just sleep and I would take care of you if anything happened.”

“Thanks,” George said it with his hoarse and drunk voice. He still made no eye contact with him as he stumbled out of the car. After realizing he could barely walk he felt a set of hands grasp onto him. Clay helped George into his house and onto his bed. He saw a few pills sitting on the nightstand, one labeled Advil, and got George a glass of water to take them with.

While waiting for George to finish taking them he looked around his room. It was very basic. Grayish blue walls, white bedsheets, dresser, a small couch made to fit one maybe two people, all the basic necessities.

His room was decently dirty, clothes on the floor, occasional food tray or water cups. George hadn’t expected anyone to come into his room so he didn’t bother cleaning it beforehand, but Clay didn’t mind.

**TW: slight mention of razors**

When George finished, Clay took the cup from him and set it on his nightstand. He couldn’t help but notice the slightly open drawer exposing some razors. Some covered with a bit of blood, others still packaged neatly. He knew that it would be an invasion of privacy so he looked away, back to George, who was sprawled across the bed asleep.

**TW: over**

Part of Clay didn’t want to leave, feeling if he did something would happen to him. After discovering some new things about George, he was scared to leave him alone.

After a few moments of awkwardly standing in the middle of the bedroom, he walked over to the couch. He sat positioning himself comfortably, head resting on his hand, and watched as George’s peaceful body moved up and down with each breath, slight noise coming from his mouth. He too, felt a tired wave come over him and before he knew it he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it is the longest chapter I have written so far since it has been a few days since I posted but anyway more chapters to come, I don't know when but soon lmao. Thanks for Reading!
> 
> Word Count: 2331


	6. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is hungover and Clay is still at his place.

When George woke up he had a massive headache. Head pounding. Obviously hungover from the night before. He groaned as he rubbed his head. He didn’t want to get up. It was Saturday so his parents were most likely not home. They had a sporadic schedule at work mainly getting off Mondays and Wednesdays, sometimes other days it depended.

George forced himself to spin over to look at the clock on his nightstand.  _ 10:41 am.  _ It was too early in the morning to be feeling like this. He closed his eyes again but he was too uncomfortable to fall back asleep, noticing he was still in his clothes from last night. 

The light was slightly coming through the windows, highlighting the minuscule dust particles in the air. When George tried to sit up the light hit his eyes and he shut them. Hand going straight over them for extra protection. 

He rubbed his eyes harshly to wake them up. When he opened his eyes slowly he became aware of everything around him. He looked at the window to see the same green-leafed tree he always does when he looks out.

As his eyes drifted away from the window and made his way to the bathroom. He tried getting up but his whole body ached in pain. A greater pain than one could imagine. As he shifted his body, legs swinging off the bed. Eyes now focused on the nightstand with pills, he grabbed the 4 bottles each labeled something different, helping with his problems. 

He forced himself to stand, he groaned. When he began to walk to the bathroom, pills in hand, he suddenly noticed something he hadn’t before. Clay was sitting in his chair, head rested against his hand as he slept. Hair slightly a mess from the night before. He looked tired even when he was sleeping. He too was in his clothes from last night. He looked uncomfortably comfortable. Clay had stayed the night. That’s when George thought back to yesterday to try to remember anything. All he could remember was Clay taking him to a party and what Clay had said.

What he said. A flow of emotion came onto George as he stood a few feet from him staring. He remembered he was so drunk last night forgetful of everything else except what Clay said. He knew Clay probably didn’t think he would remember so he wouldn't’ make a fuss of it when he woke. It was too much to think about while being hungover.

He didn’t know what to do about Clay sitting there. Does he wake him? Leave him? What happens when he wakes up? What would they talk about? It was too much when George remembered he had to use the bathroom. He shuffled over using whatever he could to keep him held upright. 

He used the bathroom, took his medication and some extra Advil, and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked a mess, hair going in every direction possible, eye bags reforming under his eyes. He couldn't think too much of it now with Clay in the next room over. All he wanted was to lay in bed never getting up, but he couldn’t. 

He walked out of the bathroom, Clay was still asleep. Deciding he didn’t want to be in his yesterday's clothes. He walked to his dresser, back facing the blonde boy, He went into his drawers to find a plain black shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere so pajamas would be fine to rest in. 

Not thinking much of it, he began to undress, pants first. Feeling relieved to get the sweaty tight pants off his aching legs. He slipped on his plaid pants and took off his shirt a few seconds after. That’s when he heard shifting behind him. He turned to see Clay, eyes wide staring at him.

“Well good morning to you too.” Clay mocked, a smirk spread across his face.

George, clearly embarrassed, quickly tried to use the shirt to cover up his bare chest.

Before Clay turned to look away he noticed, once again, the cuts on his arm slightly revealing themselves. That’s when the memories from the night before came rushing back.

He turned away from George, so he could finish getting dressed, his face now shifted from a smirk to a small frown. George couldn’t see his face, since he was turned away. He hoped more than anything George didn’t remember last night.

“What are you doing here?”

Clay turned back around to see George standing uncomfortably looking slightly down, eyes scrunched from the clear headache he had.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” Clay chuckled lightly as he said that.

Deciding it was best not to bring up what he does remember he lied “Um,” pretending to think “no not really.”

_ Thank god.  _ “Yeah, I didn’t think so. You were very wasted last night.” Clay said, still laughing. It was a slightly fake laugh as he couldn’t get the image of George’s arm out of his head. 

“Don’t remind me,” George said as he threw himself back onto the bed, face planting into the pillow. 

“Hey, it’s not as bad as you think. I liked you when you were drunk.”

“Shut up.” Although muffled from his head still in the pillow, you could hear his laugh.

“I’m serious, you were freer, it was fun seeing you like that.”

George turned his head now longer into his pillow and angled it slightly down, now making eye contact with Clay. They smiled at each other for a minute, George’s headache seemed to fade for that moment.

The sweet moment was broken by Clay getting up.

“Okay so I need to ask you something and it’s gonna be weird but I don’t want to make it weird but I’m concerned.”

“Um… okay,” George’s heart began to beat, fast like the pace when he starts panicking. He doesn’t remember anything from last night that could Clay ask him?

“So last night you were drunk and dancing in the street,”  _ oh god here it comes  _ “and you wouldn’t come to the car,”  _ please don’t tell me I did anything stupid  _ “so I grabbed your arm, to pull you to it,”  _ wait don’t tell me you saw-  _ “and when you resisted I saw your arm,” George began internally panicking, no one knew about this, not his parents or anyone he’s ever known. “And I don’t want to freak out or anything but are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it or something?”

_ No.  _ He was still lying down so he began to sit up, using his arms to help him, that’s when he realized he was wearing a short-sleeve shirt, arms fully exposed but it didn’t matter now Clay had already seen it there was no point in hiding it. 

George knew it sounded bad but he stopped worrying about hiding them because he was so used to them. He would just wear jackets every day and at-home wear short sleeves when his parents weren’t home. It wasn’t hard for it to go unnoticed since George hadn’t had friends. He wasn’t ready to let anyone in on his secret. It was his, something, not a therapist, parents, or person could take but now someone knew, someone knew and he had to talk about it.

“I’m fine. They're old, really it’s not a big deal.”

“George, I saw them, they’re not old.”

“Yes, they are.”

“Look you don’t have to-”

“I’m hungover and tired, I don’t feel like doing this right now, so I think it would be best if you just left.”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but I’m worried and-”

“It’s not a big deal.” George cut him off as he walked to his bedroom door, fake smiling. He opened it and gestured for Clay to leave.

Clay had messed up, how else do you approach the situation though?

“Look Geor-”

“Drop it.” This time George’s tone was serious. Clay knew not to bring it up again.

They walked downstairs silently. When they got to the door George opened it for Clay. He walked outside and before he could turn around to say anything, George shut the door behind him, cutting him off. Clay walked back to his car and drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, regular length. Thanks for all the love, more to come!
> 
> Word count: 1387


	7. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Clay talk at school, but it doesn't go the way Clay planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii, hope you are all doing good! New Chapter!  
> I just want to let you know there is a TW in this chapter for cutting, I put and before and after so you can skip if you want to.
> 
> Happy Reading :P

During school, Clay would try to talk to George. They only had 2 classes together so most of the time it was in the halls. George would keep it short, seeming embarrassed to be seen talking to him. Truthfully, it was embarrassing. Whenever Clay would try to bring up his arm, George would do everything he could to ignore it. He didn’t want to talk about it, especially not with Clay.

The conversations mostly went something along the lines of this:

“Hey, George.” Clay ran up to him from behind.

George avoiding eye contact says “Hi.”

“So how was your class?”

“Good,” George would say never returning the question

“Cool cool,” With George being short Clay never knew how to keep the conversation going amongst the two.

It was as simple as that, maybe a bit more, maybe less but overall basic. 

Clay couldn’t seem to get through to him. 

George had no interest in making friends with Clay. If he wanted friends he would make some. He enjoyed being alone. Plus he didn’t have time to deal with Clay’s two personalities. One being the idiot football player, doing every girl he could and the other being the soft, deep boy who picked flowers and lies in fields. 

He found it annoying how much Clay would change. Why couldn’t he be straight forward?

Whenever Clay’s friends would ask about the mystery boy he was talking to he would say something like “I need him for homework” or “he was the only one in class to talk to.” Two-faced. Whatever George felt from when he was in the fields with him or when he was invited to the football game and party, were disappearing. 

“George, wait up.”

George kept walking

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?”

George turned around.

Clay continued, “You ignore me in school and when you do talk to me you're short, whenever I try to hangout you want nothing to do with me. Why?”

“Because you're a dick," George said snapping at Clay almost immediately after he finished his sentence, "One minute you all  _ ‘oh George lay with me in the fields come to the football game with me _ ,’ the next you’re ‘ _ yeah like I don’t even know this kid he's dumb _ ,’” George said mocking Clay’s voice.

“What are you talking about?" Clay snapped back. He wasn't just going to stand there and let George bash him, he was too stubborn for that, "You’re the one who's all ‘ _ yeah I like being alone that way I don’t let people down with my depressed, tragic life.’”  _ Clay stopped himself from going any further looking at George’s face as it went from angry to sad then back to angry. He regretted it. He regretted saying what he did. He didn’t mean it but he had snapped. He wanted to apologize, take back what he said but before he could-

“Like I said. You’re a dick.” George turned to walk to his car.

Somewhat of what Clay said bothered him, only because it was true and the truth hurts. 

George drove straight home, not thinking twice about it. He knew his parents had work so he would have the house to himself. He had something to do when he got home that no one else was meant to know about.

**TW: Cutting**

George walked straight up to his room. When he got there he went into his nightstand drawer and pulled out some razors. He had a bathroom connecting itself to his room which made it easier to have privacy.

When he got into the bathroom he locked the door, just in case. He slid down against the door and began cutting.

Maybe it was because of what Clay said or maybe he just needed relief. The cold sleek feeling of the razor slashing at his arm deep and firmly gave him the satisfaction he needed right now. Although what Clay said had hurt him, he wasn't just doing it because of that. Cutting was one of the only things that made him feel himself, feeling his raw and exposed skin against the cool air the bathroom held. After cutting open the once healed scars on his left arm, he stopped. He only ever cut on his left arm because the right he used daily and after cutting he doesn't like to use his arm for a while, letting it heal, just to cut again. Blood dripped down from his arm. He watched it as it slowly hit the bathroom floor causing the tile to go from white to red. He felt numb. 

When he first started doing this, something like what Clay said would make him cry, but he was used to it by now. Used to the years of jocks like Clay bullying him, used to being made fun of by kids who were just like him. For some reason, he was always the one who was less than the rest of them. .he didn't know why, he didn't have any friends to bother or to intrude on so why him? George will never know. No tears came out anymore. The last time George cried was at the end of his Sophomore year. He can't remember why, it was too long ago. Ever since then he’s been numb.

It hadn’t been long between the last time and George did this. He often wouldn't think when he did, making it easier. He would let his mind wander to places it’s been before, sometimes forgetting what he was doing.

**TW: Over**

Maybe him being numb was part of the reason it was easier to be mean to Clay. He didn’t have to feel the full guilt. 

He stayed in the bathroom just staring at the wall. His mind became blank but he needed a moment before having to clean up.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Clay stood there staring at George. No way had he just said that. They barely knew each other and already was Clay fighting with him like they had, saying something that wasn’t his place to say. All he could do was stand there, stand there and watch as someone he cared for face dropped into pure sadness because of him. He just watched as George walked to his car. For a moment he looked around, no one had heard their conversation, or at least no one cared. 

After a moment, Clay got into his car. He slammed the door shut and sat in the driver's seat.

“Dammit!” He yelled as he hit his steering wheel with full force.

No matter who you were, close or not, no one should ever have to hear those words from another person. It breaks people.

_ Why am I so stupid?  _ Clay thought to himself. He liked George and there was no denying it. He wanted them to be friends, so why was it so hard with him?

Maybe it was because their lives were different, George didn’t have friends and he didn’t  _ want  _ to have friends. He was closed off, never trusting anyone, but he could trust Clay, so why didn’t he?  _ Maybe it’s cause of the dumb things you say. _

\---------------------------------------------------------

George lay in bed staring up at his ceiling. He took his medication for the day to ease the pain. It didn’t help. It was like his body was so used to it that he became immune to them. He had homework that he needed to get done, but he didn’t care. Right now he wanted to be gone, out of this world, free from any and all problems.

He heard his phone ding. He assumed it was his mom telling him she was on her way home and ignored it.

It dinged again.

And again.

And again.

George, now confused, grabbed his phone from his nightstand and looked to see who texted.

** +1 (738)-840-2743 **

hi its clay

** +1 (738)-840-2743 **

i'm sorry about what i said

** +1 (738)-840-2743 **

i dont know why i said it

** +1 (738)-840-2743 **

please text me back to at least let me know you're ok

George stared at his phone for a minute before unlocking it and opening their texts. He had his read receipts on so no matter what he knew Clay was aware he saw them. Maybe being on reading is enough for Clay to know he’s okay. He didn’t feel like texting him back, to fed up with Clay’s bullshit. 

Since Clay knew about his arm, George figured that was why he was so worried. George however didn't know that Clay had seen the pills on his nightstand when he was over. Seeing the antidepressants, inferring George is depressed.

** +1 (738)-840-2743 **

george… please

** +1 (738)-840-2743 **

im not gonna stop texting until you reply

George watched as more messages came in. He knew it wouldn’t stop until he replied. 

how did you get my number

** clay **

from a friend

we’ll im fine

** clay **

fine? you dont sound fine

i am tho

** clay **

no youre not.

im sorry about what i said

it was a spur of the moment 

i didnt actually mean it

it's fine really

i dont care

** clay **

you do care but your not going to admit it

why do you care anyway it’s not like

were friends

** clay **

oh. yeah i just wanted to make sure youre ok

i just wanna be left alone right now so

** clay **

yeah sure sorry to bother you.

Dry on both parts, pettiness from behind George’s screen. Clay felt a bother to George, didn't want to overstep. Respecting George's wishes, he stopped texting. And with that, the conversation ended. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! More to come of course :)
> 
> Word Count: 1588


	8. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George can't take it anymore, he wants it to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so major trigger warning throughout this whole chapter for Suicide attempt. If that is triggering at all please don't read this chapter, also this isn't the end of the story just a chapter name
> 
> Happy Reading :P

A few days had gone by since George and Clay last spoke. Clay didn’t want to bother George and George practically hated Clay at this point. Of course, he didn't actually, but it was easier if he thought he did. Maybe he was being dramatic about all of this but it didn’t matter, nothing did.

Maybe it was what Clay said or maybe it was the constant disappointment he was to his parents, maybe it was more. More than George could handle, he was only a high schooler with the feeling of a thousand pounds pulling him under. 

But George didn’t wanna be here anymore, not school, not home, not anywhere. Today was Friday so another football game was happening tonight. George didn’t think twice about it. Today was the day. To end it all. 

He was in 4th period when he realized he didn’t wanna cause anyone more problems. The 4th period was a period he had with Clay, one of the two. Clay sat closer to the front whereas George sat in the complete back corner. Hood up slumped down. He would often take glances towards Clay, only being about to see the back of him. He did catch Clay staring at him once though.

When the bell rang for the 4th period to be over, George barely noticed. Taking a minute to get out of his head. As he walked to his next class he felt eyes on him.

He turned to see Clay staring at him. Clay quickly looked away before continuing the conversation with his friends. Rather than overthinking the situation George simply kept walking. 

School has never gone by so slowly. All George wanted to do was go home. Be alone. Be gone and rid of everything.

When the bell for the 7th period to be over rang, George got up from his seat and raced to his car. Nevermore has he wanted to go home. His parents weren’t home so he knew there was nothing to stop him. No chance of it not happening, he liked it that way.

His car ride home was silent, not bothering to play music. It's not like he would listen to it anyways. Although it might seem sudden George has been thinking about this for a while now, not having the courage to go through with it, but he often found himself sitting in the bathrooms trying and failing. When he arrived home he went straight upstairs, not bothering to lock the door behind him. 

To George, this wasn't a big deal. The weight on his shoulders a greater burden than any other. He didn't feel his life was worth the bother. It's a hard feeling to explain, thank god he wouldn't have to.

Before anything, he was going to write a note. To tell his parents goodbye, leave them with validation. He lied in the letter saying they were great parents and he wasn’t doing it because of them. He couldn’t leave giving his parents the burden of this. 

When George finished writing the letter he set it on his bed. He grabbed his medication, which he just got a new refill of, and headed to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him.

This was it. It was finally going to be over.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Clay knew something was wrong with George. They didn’t know each other very well but with what Clay did know he knew something was wrong with George. 

He looked tired. More than usual, he didn’t talk once today at school, not that he ever really did, barely looking up from his hands. He noticed his deep eye bags from when they made eye contact. A hood over his face, rushing to every class as he had somewhere to be, something to do. 

Clay became worried. When school ended he watched as George walked, slumped, to his car. When George turned around for a second he looked away, acting as if he wasn’t staring.

“Hey guys, I should probably get home and get ready for the game tonight,” Clay said to his friends before he walked to get in his car.

He watched as George pulled out of the parking spot heading towards the exit. He decided to follow George home. Yes, it sounded weird but he just wanted to make sure George was ok.

He trailed far enough behind George so he wouldn’t notice him but close enough to see where he was going. After George pulled into his driveway and walked inside, Clay parked on the opposite of the house. 

It was a modern house, two stories with a small walkway leading up to the front door. Nothing fancy. It fit George. There was only one car in the driveway so he assumed that meant his parents weren’t home.

Clay sat in his car staring at the house, mustering up the courage to knock on the door. After about 5 minutes of sitting there. He decided to leave his phone in the car leaving the risk of it making noise, behind

Clay slowly got out of his car and began walking to the front door. He stood there for a moment before knocking.

No response.

He knocked again, this time harder and longer.

Still no response.

He jiggled the doorknob. It opened.

He walked into the house slowly, peeking his head inside to see. Off to his left side were a couch and a tv. Behind the couch was a kitchen. Small but handy. Directly in front of him were stairs leading up to a hallway.

“George?” Clay called out.

“Sorry to barge in but you weren’t answering and I wanted to see if you were okay.”

He didn’t get a response. He walked completely inside now, shutting the door behind him. He walked up the stairs looking at pictures hung along the walls. In each one, everyone was smiling. You would never be able to tell the amount of hurt behind these photos. He hadn't noticed any of this when he took George home before.

Clay kept walking when he was greeted with various amounts of doors. One was slightly cracked open, the lights were on inside George's room

Once again Clay called his name “George?”

No response.

He walked into the bedroom looking around. Looking about the same as last time, just messier. Clothes sprawled on the ground, food containers on his desk. 

When he saw the extra door shut he assumed it was a bathroom. Maybe George was in it.

He walked up to it and knocked.

“George, you in there?” He wasn’t met by the response but the simple noise of a pill bottle shaking. 

Fear struck into Clay as he heard that noise. He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t taking medication, he was hiding something. Clay became panicked. Banging on the door, begging George to open and after he was met by no response he quickly backed up from the door. 

Clay was fairly strong. I mean he played football, he had to be. He gave himself a mini running head start before slamming into the door. The door burst open hinges breaking.

He was met with a sight he will never forget. George sat back against the wall, crying, as he took the mass of pills in his hand and brought them to his mouth. He threw his head back to try to swallow them.

Clay quickly rushed down to his side grabbing his hand and shoving his fingers into George’s mouth forcing the pills to come out. George only being able to swallow one, maybe two.

George was breaking down screaming, “Stop! Let me go!” tears spilling out of his eyes.

Clay sat behind him, grabbing him, pulling him into his chest, slowly rocking back and forth.

“How many did you swallow?” Clay said, tone rushed and deep.

When he was answered with nothing he said again:

“How many did you swallow?!” This time louder and harsher

“None!” George yelled back. His voice was raspy from crying.

“It’s gonna be ok. You're gonna be ok.” Clay said as he gripped the smaller boy tighter with his left hand rubbing his head with his right.

George lay there crying like he never has before, so desperately did he want to end it all and he couldn’t even manage to do that.

“Just let me go.” The words came quietly out of his mouth as he pleaded, Clay held tighter onto George, rocking back and forth.

Neither had their phone so they couldn’t call anyone for help. They sat there for 10 minutes. George crying, Clay comforting.

As they sat all Clay could think about was how much this was his fault. What he said to him, how he had acted, what he said to his friends about him. His fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It wasn't the best written but it'll have to do. More to come!


	9. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After 7 months of Rehab for George, he was now going to be in his senior year of high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIIII i just want to say I am so sorry for it being like 2 weeks since I last uploaded I have been super unmotivated and super busy but I finally got a chapter out, I hope you all love it!
> 
> Happy Reading :P

It was now the beginning of senior year. Approximately 7 months had gone by since the incident. George had spent the past 6 months in rehab. Only getting out 2 weeks ago. He still had to meet with a therapist once a week. Both his therapist and parents thought it would be best if he went back to school. No one besides Clay knew why he had missed around 5 months of school, honestly, no one noticed.

He and Clay hadn’t spoken since that night, George didn’t want to see him and he wasn’t allowed to have his phone so it wasn’t like they texted. 

Clay had driven himself mad wondering about George, a few times he even went to his house and asked his parents how he was. 

In 2 days he would see him again. The first day of school. Both were scared to go, of course. Clay didn’t want to overstep when it came to George. It was like he was a piece of glass waiting to break at any moment.

George knew what lay ahead in two days. Either Clay would have moved on not thinking twice about him or he would bombard him with questions.

The time in rehab was good for George, though he had spent most of the time faking his happiness he found something to live for. Himself.

The first few weeks were hard, seeing as George wasn’t even supposed to be alive right now, but after some time George had made a friend and she understood him. Her name was Niki. She had her problems and for once wasn’t one to judge George with his. She understood him when George told her about Clay, about his parents, about why he tried what he tried. 

When George was released, they said that he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unsupervised. Meaning no more alone time, he wasn’t even allowed to have his door closed. This hurt George, although it was expected, one of George’s favorite things was being alone and now it was taken. 

George’s parents had visited almost every chance they could, which surprised him if he was being honest. The relationship between him and his parents has gotten slightly better. They seemed to ‘appreciate’ him more. No longer looking past him. 

As for the way George felt. A bit better but more or less the same. He faked everything in rehab. The only thing changing was his feelings about living. He wanted to, maybe it was to prove to himself he could but maybe it was because he was given a second chance and not many people were.

\---------------------------------------------------------

It was 7 am. Just like every other school morning. George was woken by his alarm. The first day of school was now upon him. Feeling still tired, he simply threw on some black sweats with a dark blue hoodie, trying his best to fit in with everyone else. He didn’t bother doing his hair because it normally went down after a bit. 

He walked downstairs and his parents greeted him with happy smiles. 

“Goodmorning George! Happy first day of school!” His mother said to him with a wide smile.

Forcing one back, George said “Good Morning!”

“Are you ready to go?” His mom said as she put away some dishes.

“Yeah, just about. I gotta grab my backpack.”

“Okay, well leave in 5 minutes.”

Since it was the first day of school, George’s backpack had about 3 things in it, A notebook, textbook, and pencil. It was light which he was happy about.

He wasn’t allowed to drive himself to school so his parents had to. It was embarrassing, but it didn’t matter. It's not like anyone would notice.

The five minutes had passed now. It was time to leave. George was nervous, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was just first-day nerves.

As he and his parents got in the car, making small talk with him on the way there. Soon the school came into view. A ton of people were pouring out of cars, walking around campus. No one wanted to be late on the first day. He saw some incoming freshmen and thought back to when he first started high school. He had been different then. People didn’t lie when they said high school is when you figure out who you are. 

His parents pulled into a nearby parking space to let him out.

“Okay honey, you have a good day, and be sure to text us if anything goes wrong.”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks.”

“Alright well you don’t wanna be late on your first day, we love you!”

“I love you guys too.” It had been a while since he had said that to them. Normally he wouldn't have but under the circumstances he did.

He got out of the car and waved to his parents as they started to drive towards the exit.

This was it, the first day of his last year and the first time being back in school since  _ it  _ happened. Moment of truth and with that George walked in the doors.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Clay had woken up late. He was up all night and was so exhausted he slept through his alarm. His parents were at work so they couldn't wake him up. It was 7:45 am when he woke up and his school was 10 minutes away. 

He got ready as fast as he could, not believing he was going to be late on the first day. After 10 minutes of getting ready, he left his house at almost 8 o’clock. 

He grabbed his car keys and sped to school. There was no doubt he was going to be late. When he finally got to school he found the nearest open parking spot. He slipped out of his car grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder as he jogged into school. 

The hallways were empty, as to be expected. His schedule said he had English first period. Being a senior had its perks, one being knowing where all the classes were. He jogged his way towards the class.

When he found the correct room, he pulled open the door and was greeted with everyone’s eyes on him.

“Late for the first day of school, are we now Mr….”

“Henderson, Clay Henderson.”

“Alright well, find a seat anywhere and we will continue.”

Clay nodded as he began to look around the room for an empty seat.

The world stopped. As his eyes traveled to the back of the room he spotted a familiar figure. A small boy, wearing sweats and a hoodie. He was slumped in his chair, a hood on only showing half of his face. His eyes were staring at the ground. He was playing with a small piece of paper in his hands, something to keep him entertained. 

“Mr. Henderson, please take your seat.”

Clay was snapped back into reality as his name was called. Eyes leaving the boy.

“Oh yeah, sorry.” He took one more glance at the boy, who still refused to look up, and found a seat. He was two rows up from the back.

He paid no attention to what the teacher was saying, she was simply talking about syllabi and things they were going to do throughout the year. Looking back at George every so often, who remained in the same position, playing with the same piece of paper.

Right as class was about to end, the teacher called Clay’s name.

“Mr. Henderson, can you please stay for a moment, I need to talk to you.”

Although against Clay’s will, he complied. 

When the bell rang he got up from his seat and headed towards the teacher's desk. He watched as George sped out the door. He wanted to maybe catch George before his next class started.

“You were late this morning, is everything alright?”

Everyone knows Clay has a past of being late or barely on time, why was she asking?

“Yeah everything is good, just sleep through my alarm.”

“Okay, well don’t let it happen again.”

“Yeah, of course, Thank you.”

“See you tomorrow.” 

And with that, the conversation was over. Clay brushed past the teacher, Mrs. Beth, and walked outside of the class. He looked around the halls but no sight of George. He had missed him. 

“Hey man. How was your first class?” Nick said, walking up to Clay.

“I was late. Slept through my alarm.”

“Of course you did,” Nick said laughing

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clay, joining in on him laughing.

“Anyway, I got Algebra next period, what about you?”

“Same, let's walk,” Clay said, still laughing a bit.

"Alright let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed. At this rate I don't know when the next chapter will be posted but thanks to those who stuck around. More to come!
> 
> Word Count: 1445


	10. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has one more period to get through before school is finally over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIII so I felt a sudden motivation to write this idk why, but here is chpater 10!! also TW panic attack. I'll label when it happend tho.
> 
> Happy Reading :P

The next periods went through boringly, doing no real work except for introductions and syllabi.

George kept his head down almost every class, sitting in the back per usual.

It was finally the last period, the school day almost over and he had only seen Clay once during the first period. Well, he hadn’t exactly seen him. He looked up, saw him, and immediately looked away.

He quickly rushed to his last period to get the very back, left seat. He sat as he usually does, slumped down, hood over his head. He didn’t want to be seen.

When the bell rang to signal the 7th period starting. Everyone started to pile in. When he looked up for a second he saw Clay walking in, taking a seat more towards the right. His head went down again. He could feel Clay staring at him, but he didn’t care.

He stayed focused on his hands, not paying attention again, that was until his name was being called.

“Um… George is it?” He looked up to see the male teacher, Mr. Davis, staring at him.

“Um, yeah?”

“Why don’t you tell us a little bit about you and what you did over the summer.”

Everyone had been doing this, taking turns to share a little bit about themselves, for the teacher to get to know him better, George had been too zoned out to notice.

“Ok sure,” he stood up, “I’m George, this is my 4th year at Westfield, and um, over summer I just hung out with my family and relaxed.” He said it with a forced smile as he lied through his teeth. It wouldn’t exactly be the best introduction to say ‘ _ yeah, I spent the summer in rehab after I tried to off myself.’  _

He felt everyone’s eye on him. He was panicking, internally. He didn’t like having all the attention on him.

“Hi George, it’s nice to meet you.” Mr. Davis said with a smile.

He smiled back and sat down. Head immediately down and into his hands.

His breathing began to become heavy. He could not be having a panic attack right now, right in class. He raised his hand.

“Yes, George?”

“Can I go to the bathroom, please?”

“Make it quick.”

George rushed out keeping his head down. The bathrooms weren’t too far from where his class was so when he saw the door, he burst in. 

He looked along the ground to see if anyone was in there and to his luck no one was. He went into the stall furthest from the door and locked it behind him. 

**TW: Panic Attack**

He sat on top of the toilet, breath leaving him but not coming back. His throat closing up. His hands were embracing the stall walls as he closed his eyes. 

Going over 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1 in his head over and over again. That's when he heard the door open. He shut his mouth, making it even harder to breathe than normal, but he didn’t want anyone to hear him. 

Tears began to fill his eyes because he couldn’t breathe. He hoped that whoever it was, was going to leave fast.

“George?”

_ ‘Oh god, please no, oh god no’  _ George thought to himself. He knew the voice, everyone knew the voice.

“I know you're in here, I can see your shoes.”

George couldn’t get himself to speak, panicking even more now. 

“I just wanted to see how you are.”

Still no response from George. Maybe if he was quiet, he would go away.

“I’m not leaving until you say you're okay.” Part of Clay knew that if George wanted to talk he would have, and maybe he was being too much on him, after all, George was still fragile in Clay’s mind.

“Please for the love of God, go away.” Voice raspy and tired. It was a bit harsh, George knew that but he didn’t care, it took everything in him to refrain from bursting like a bubble.

“Oh.” Clay said, hurt, “Okay,” and with that he heard the door open and close, assuming he left. George burst into a breath, acting as if he hadn’t taken a breath in 100 years. A few tears flowed out of his eyes, biting his lip to prevent the screams. He wanted to scream. 

After a minute or two (he knew he couldn’t belong since he had class to get back to) he regathered himself.

**TW Over**

When walked out of the stall, he saw Clay, still standing there, staring at him, looking broken, his face was sad, sadder than George has ever seen it.

“I thought I told you to leave,” George said as he walked over to the sink, to wash his hands.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave until you said you were ok.”

“I’m okay, now leave,” George said harshly, as he glanced at his face in the mirror, he took into notice the eye bags replaced with redness from crying, he knew he couldn't let anyone see him like this.

“Now you’re just lying,” Part of Clay didn’t know what to say. Where was there to begin, was this even the right time to bring it all up, in a school bathroom.

George looked away from his reflection and down to his hands which were running under the cold sink water.

“I want to talk, it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow but soon, please.”

George could hear his tone, he sounded concerned, like at any moment George was going to break and Clay didn’t want to be the one to cause it.

“Okay,” George said with a reassuring tone. He knew it wasn’t fair to Clay, after all, he was the one who saved him.

“I need a bit of time, though.” George’s eyes met with Clay’s for the first time in over 6 months. They were back to the first day they met, actually met, on the swings, as the dark chilling night surrounded them.

Back to when they sat peacefully next to each other, knowing nothing about each other but being able to find a calming essence in another's presence. George missed it before he knew who the boy was, watching him pick up a flower from the field and look up into the night sky. Careless. 

The same thoughts flooded over him as they did that day but before George’s mind completely took a hold of his body he looked away and began to walk out the door. 

“Meet me in the fields Thursday night, we can talk then,” George called out before leaving the bathroom fully.

He walked back down the vacant halls as he neared his class. He had been gone for about 10 minutes. He hoped no one noticed. 

When he walked back into the class everyone was chatting about. The teacher passing out a few papers to each of the students. George was able to slip back into his chair, going unnoticed. 

A minute or two went by before Clay arrived back in class, making it less obvious they were in the bathroom together.

When the bell rang for the last period to be over, George got up and walked out.

Clay simply watched, this time not chasing after him or trying to talk to him, but letting him have his space. It was only fair.

Both had different ways of coping, Clay got to spend the summer relaxing and living it up with his buddies, trying to forget what happened even though the image will never get out of his head.

Clay hadn’t been one to deal with real-life problems like George did. He didn’t know how to cope properly, he often spent his nights partying or getting drunk and high, doing anything one could forget the night of the awful event.

After it happened school wasn’t the same. His grades began to slip, he missed multiple football games and practices, he stopped caring about a lot of things. But it worked for him, as eventually, he started becoming okay with everything.

George on the other hand had no choice but to cope. After the attempt, Clay called his parents and he was rushed to the hospital. He refused to see anyone but his parents in fear of Clay seeing him differently. Differently from what though?

After about 2-3 days of talking with doctors and therapists, he was admitted to a nearby rehab facility. He was diagnosed with at least 3 months of rehab, checking his progress weekly to see if that would change. He didn’t have any relapses or fits but something was off so they told him he had to stay in longer. That’s when it hit him that he had to start faking it.

Rehab helped at first. Part of his relationship with his parents became better and he swore to them, and himself, he wouldn’t try again but when 3 months had gone by and he hadn’t felt any happier with himself, George decided to fake it. For his parents' sake.

He knew how much it hurt them to see him in here every day, visiting when they got the chance. Clay had come by a few times to try and visit him but George never wanted to see him. His parents would tell him when Clay would stop by the house to ask how he was. 

He felt bad for Clay; he knew it must’ve been hard on him too, but he couldn’t bring himself to see him. Not yet anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed, bit of a filler chapter to set up for the next but yeahhhh. also HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DADZA AND SAPNAP!! 
> 
> Word count: 1582


	11. Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Clay finally have the conversation to settle things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhiiiiiiiiii! its been about a week and a half since I last posted but im trying. My motivation has been hard to find so i hope this chapter isn't bad! So enjoy
> 
> Happy reading :P

Clay didn’t know what time George wanted to meet but he wanted to be the first person there. After school had ended he went home and relaxed. He decided he would walk to the park around 5:30.

As he walked he looked around. The sun was beginning to set so the sky wasn’t completely blue anymore, more of an orange. He watched as a slight breeze picked up ruffling his hair backward. 

He never really got time to himself anymore to sit and clear his head. He always had something going on, one way or another.

When the park became insight he realized George wasn’t there yet. He found a seat on the bench. He rests his head on his hands, looking out into the tree line. 

The trees were pine, Everest green with barked trunks. Each one a different height, creating an illusion. The sound of the swings swaying slightly back and forth is the only thing to accompany Clay’s ears.

When Clay was younger they had taken plenty of family trips to the Redwoods, a beautiful tree forest in Oregon. He had always been a fan of adventuring, but with his recent busy schedule, they haven’t been able to take one in a while.

Clay let himself enjoy the moment for as long as it took George to get here. After hearing rustling from behind him, George approached, sitting diagonally from Clay. For a minute they just sat there, listening to the outside world's natural sounds.

Clay spoke first, nerves pricking at his skin. He had to be cautious with his words, one wrong word might scare him away. “So, how have you been?” he was looking at his hands too scared to make eye contact.

“I’ve been, you know, good,” George spoke ensuring, looking up at Clay to find him looking at his hands.

“How was rehab?” This time Clay looked up at George, but George looked away, the question he’d been dreading

“It was enlightening,” George said sarcastically adding a laugh to lighten the mood.

Clay half-heartedly laughed.

“I’m kidding. It was good for me. I mean I hated it, but” They both laughed. The awkward tension filled the air.

Both not knowing where to begin the conversation, but both having a lot to say. They were nervous. The last time they spoke was when George had attempted.

Clay has never experienced something like this, somehow everything in life seemed to be perfect. Maybe that’s why Clay liked George so much because he was anything but perfect. He hoped by the end of this he could at least still be friends with George.

“So you probably have a lot of questions, let’s just skip this awkward faze and ask, I can handle it.” George’s tone was less tired than usual, he sounded more sure of himself when he talked.

“Ok,” Clay didn’t know where to begin, he started simple questions like “did you enjoy rehab?” or “did you meet anyone while in there?” but as the conversation got more natural, Clay began to ask deeper questions like “When did you first become depressed?” and “How come you never let anyone in?”

When the conversation was coming to a close and Clay felt like he had asked everything he wanted to know, he asked one final question, the question I think both of them have been dreading.

“Why did you do it?”

If George was being honest he didn’t know why, he knew he was sad, it had been built up, but what had caused him to tip over?

They sat in a long silence of both just thinking before George spoke up.

“I don’t know… I guess it was just a build-up of things.” That was the truth, that, for now, was all he knew.

“Would you do it again?” A question that had been on Clay’s mind for a while now.

“I mean I don’t regret that I did it, but I don’t think I would do it again. I’m better now.” He didn’t know who he was trying to convince, Clay or himself.

“I mean what about you,” George asked, “what’s been up with you the last 6 months?”

Clay laughed “Um, not much, same old same old.”

That was true, not much had changed with Clay. Since no one really knew about him and George and what all went down, he had to put up a facade, making sure everyone knew nothing had changed.

Some parts of Clay did change though, seeing George in the state he was in and not even realizing it until it was too late, I mean that would change anyone.

They both just there, neither making eye contact, across from each other on a cool night. They had discussed what they wanted to, maybe leaving out a few things, but overall covering what needed to be said.

“So what does this mean for us?”  _ Is there even an us?  _ Clay thought.

“What do you mean?” They both looked at each other, maybe for the first time all night.

“I mean like at school, are we friends, do we go back to pretending we don’t know each other or what because I’m confused about what happens next.” Clay turned his body to be facing George, one leg up on the bench. 

“Uh,” George sat thinking for a moment, looking up at Clay, “I’m not exactly sure, I mean you have your life to get back to and I guess I have mine.”

“So we're just gonna pretend we never met?” Clay sounded distraught.

“Yeah, we could do that.” George sounded hesitant, breaking the eye contact between the two. Eye contact was never a strong suit when it came to George.

“But what if I don’t wanna pretend.” This caught George’s attention, he wasn’t expecting Clay to say something like that. He looked up to see Clay’s face, flushed with a slight tint of red.

Now it was silent, George finally realizing how cold it was, watching as the trees behind Clay slightly swayed from the breeze. His hands playing with the holes of the bench. What was George supposed to say? He had assumed it was what Clay wanted.

Both he and Clay just sat there, enjoying each other’s silent presence.

“What if we became friends?” Clay’s voice was crisp, slight breath being able to be seen coming from his mouth in the cold night.

“What about your other friends?” George said, slightly sarcastic.

“I can have multiple friends.” Clay mocked back.

“I mean your  _ popular football  _ friends.”

“What about them?”

“You’ve got status to uphold, football star and all, people will judge you for hanging out with me.” All the mock in George’s voice was now gone.

“I don’t care.”

“You will, you might not now, but you will.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes you will and then I’ll get all disappointed and sad and you’ll have moved on to better things and I’ll have to find a way of coping. It’s how it always goes.”

“This time it’s different.”

“No it’s not Clay,” George leaned back, throwing his head in the air, laughing slightly, “It’s just how high school goes.”

“You need to be more optimistic. We could become the best of friends,”  _ or maybe more than that.  _ Clay laughed, jokingly.

“Alright, whatever you say.” George snickered along.

The conversation seemed to come to an end, neither having much more to say. It was settled, according to George they would go back to before meeting each other, acting as if everything that went down, didn’t happen.

“Bye Clay.” George smiled, getting up from the bench where they had been sitting for hours.

“Bye George.” Clay’s voice was raspy as the cold night, sending shivers down George's spine as he broke the eye contact to walk away.

Clay watched George from behind, slowly walking away.

George was walking to his car about 5 feet away from it when he felt someone twist him backward, only seconds later, lips pressed against his.

George's eyes grew wide as he realized what was happening. He let himself fall into the kiss, hand grabbing onto Clay’s collar, others resting atop his heart, slightly on his tippy toes to reach Clay. After a few seconds, Clay pulled away.

“What if I don’t want to go back to before?”

George laughed, a real laugh, “You’re such an idiot Clay,” his head banging against Clay’s chest.

“Why?” Clay wrapped his hands around George shifting weight from his left to right foot, back and forth, as George's face was buried into Clay's chest. 

“Clay,” George whined, dragging out the 'y'.

“George, just let something be for once, stop overthinking.”

Maybe Clay was right, maybe George should let something be for once, but George didn’t know-how. His brain is wired to overthink, over-analyze, or over-read, every situation possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you enjoyed. I finally gave you guys something LMAO. I'm just not good with fluff so i haven't decided yet if they have a good or bad ending, ig we'll see!!
> 
> Word Count: 1,470


End file.
